Page 25 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
7
Nicco
I wasn’t sure she’d say yes, but I knew I had to at least ask her to get together. This morning when I found her pages, I only read the first few paragraphs to see what it was and my curiosity about her was piqued. Reading the sensual scene was a massive turn on.
During the lighting check shoot, I had to stifle my arousal. I loved watching her body respond to my touch. I’m dying to know if I’m who she was writing about.
She writes with an intimacy I’ve long-since denied myself. It took all my willpower to not read more. She hadn’t given me permission and I wanted to honor that so I stopped once I knew what they were. But, damn do I want to read more from her. Fuck, I want to act out the scenes with her.
But it’s not just the physical attraction, I feel that with lots of women. There’s something I can’t quite pinpoint about Destiny, but it’s tugging at me, making me want to know more.
I put the address she texted into my app to see how long it’ll take to get there. Grabbing her pages, I head out early to make sure I’m on time.
I arrive ten minutes early and text her.
Me:I’m early. I’ll go in and get us a table.
My phone chimes immediately.
Destiny:I’m inside. When you come in, turn right and walk to the end of the aisle.
Wow, she’s really early. With her pages securely in my hand, I enter the restaurant. The homey smell of pasta surrounds me, intensifying how hungry I am. The ambiance is rich with Italian flare. Brick archways, greenery draping down from the ceiling and crawling up walls, and ornate chandeliers providing the subtle glow of romantic lighting. I turn right and walk down the aisle. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a glow on Destiny’s light hair and fair skin.
She sees me and waves. When I reach her, I lean down to kiss her on both cheeks. I love the way she smells faintly of vanilla. Today she’s dressed more how I would expect from getting to know a little about her last night. A feminine flowery top and jeans suit her personality.
“Hello,” I say, sitting down and tucking my legs under the white linen tablecloth. “It’s good to see you again. Thank you for meeting me for lunch.” I hand over her pages. “Here are your pages that were in the back of my car.”
Her cheeks flush. “Yes, it’s nice to see you,” she says, taking her pages from me. “Thank you for returning these. I was freaking out wondering what happened to them.” She chuckles nervously.
“They were in safe hands.” I assure her.
She glances at her pages and curls her hands in toward her chest, her shoulders slightly hunched. “Did you,” she hesitates, “read them?” Wincing anticipation sits in her eyes as her eyebrows lift.
“No. I only read the first few paragraphs to see what it was. When I read it, I figured out they were your pages you told me about so I stopped. You said you didn’t want me to read them. I’m waiting to read Sunflowers for Sarah.”
“Oh.” She looks blankly at me.
“Were you expecting me to say that I read them?”
“Actually, I was.” She briefly casts her eyes down and back up.
“That’s because you don’t know me yet. You asked me not to and I fully respect that.”
“Thank you for respecting my wishes.” Her shoulders release, her features soften, and she tucks her pages into her purse.
“I’ll always respect your wishes.” I smile. “Would you like some wine?”
“Yes, that would be nice. I confess I don’t know much about wine though.”
“I do.” I look through the menu, pleased by the selection.
The waiter comes over, places a basket of bread and a dish of seasoned olive oil on our table, and pours water into my glass from the bottle on the table. “Welcome. Can I get you both something to drink?”
“Yes, please. One moment.” I shift my attention to Destiny. “Red or white?”
“A red would be nice.”
I look back up at the waiter. “Two glasses of Sella and Mosca Tanca Farra, please.”
